


It Works on Wood

by betawho



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Gen, Sonic Screwdriver, TARDIS - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-24
Updated: 2012-02-24
Packaged: 2017-10-31 16:53:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/346342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/betawho/pseuds/betawho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The sonic doesn't work on wood. Well, he'll just see about that!</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Works on Wood

"Hah!"

Amy turned her head, a puzzled scowl on her face. The sound led her to one of the doors in the Tardis corridor. She could hear loud thumping sounds, and the sonic screwdriver.

"Doctor?" she said, leaning her head in around the door, very carefully.

"Look, Amy!" The Doctor was inside in his shirtsleeves. Red braces over a blue shirt, waving the sonic screwdriver around like a sword.

The room was trashed, littered with splinters of wood, broken timbers, charred 2x4s and what looked like the remains of a campfire.

To be fair, the rest of the room was completely bare, nothing but soot stained white walls.

"What in heaven's name are you doing?" Amy demanded, pushing the door wider and scowling, with her hands on her hips.

"Experimenting!" he yelled, weaving the sonic back and forth in a figure eight. It was giving off such a high pitched squeal that Amy squeezed one eye shut and winced.

She stared at where he was pointing the thing. There was an old wooden barn door propped against the far wall. As he moved the sonic, a charred black line flowed over the surface of the wood, as if he was writing on it from across the room. Curls of smoke whisped up from the traces.

"I thought you said the sonic didn't do wood?" she yelled over the screaming vibrations.

He shut it off. The silence was so abrupt it had weight. He flipped the sonic screwdriver and caught it smugly.

"That just shows what _I_ know," he said mockingly.

He spun in a circle, arm out. In rapid-fire succession he pointed it at the campfire, it caught fire. He pointed at a railroad tie, it started shaking and walking across the floor. He pointed it at a wooden barrel cover, it split in half. He pointed it at a timber leaning against the wall and it exploded!

Amy ducked and screamed. Splinters fluttered down all around her. The Doctor pointed the sonic at her and her eyes went huge, it emitted a deep thrumming hum and the splinters bounced away to land harmlessly all around her.

"Sorry about that. Got carried away," he said with a shamefaced grimace.

"What the hell are you playing at?" Amy demanded, heart sputtering in her chest.

"The sonic," he said, holding it up. "It does wood!"

"I can _see_ that."

"Yes, well, I'd rather got in the bad habit of relying on the presets. It's all about vibrational frequencies and counter-oscillations and..."

She was glaring at him.

He stopped and cleared his throat.

"Necessity is the mother of invention?" he said hopefully.

"I'll give you a mother..." she said, giving him a look that reminded him exactly whose mother she was.

He looked everywhere but at her.

"Now get this place cleaned up. Lunch is ready."

"Yes ma'am." He pointed the sonic at the floor and the splinters and chunks of wood started dancing. He swept the sonic back and forth in a sweeping motion and the wood skittered along in front of him. He zapped a larger chunk with a shrill blast and it puffed up in a flame and died down into a pile of ash.

"And be sure to wash your hands," Amy ordered sharply.

He swung around, the sonic still poised. "Yes... Gaak'!..." He jumped forward and started pounding at her shoulders and back.

 _"Doctor!"_ Amy screamed, trying to fend him off. Rory came pounding down the corridor, he swung in the door.

"What is it? _What's happening?"_

"Sorry, sorry!" The Doctor brushed at her shoulders one last time and stood back, hands raised, the sonic still in one of them. His hands were sooty.

He gave her a grimacing, apologetic look, the kind a man gives just before he knows he's going to be slapped.

_"I'm afraid it also does hair..."_

—

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